


To Begin

by gloriousmonsters



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU: Aredhel waits a little longer, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:49:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloriousmonsters/pseuds/gloriousmonsters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aredhel does not wander so far, and is there where Celegorm returns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Begin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/gifts).



> It's still... close enough to Yule, right? Let's just call this a Valentine's gift - sorry it's on the short side, Lise.

Irissë used to say that Tyelkormo could make anyone forgive him with a look - a pleading smile, sorrowful eyes, a look of sincere regret.  
  
There is outright pain in his eyes, now, as he halts his horse near where she sits, and does not dismount.  
  
She looks into her heart and still finds anger there.  
  
"Irissë," Tyelkormo says. It seems, she thinks, balling her hands into fists, that all anyone can do is say her name. Turukáno, asking her to come to Gondolin, or asking her not to leave. She had not waited here for them to return, so long that wander-lust bit at her heart again like a wild animal, for him to stare at her and say her name.  
  
"Celegorm," Irissë says, because she knows it will cut him, and stands. Tyelkormo watches her as if she cannot believe she is there. She feels, standing on his doorstep, like she could deny him entry if she wished - if she told him to he would turn his horse and ride away. The wind all around them dies for a moment.  
  
Then Curufinwë dismounts, to their right, and the noise makes them both turn to look. Part of Irissë still leaps in response to seeing him - Curvo, a voice at the back of her mind whispers - but his dark eyes are unhappy, and his tense stance is far more suitable for facing down an enemy than for greeting a friend.  
  
"What do you want?" he asks. Irissë is almost grateful of how he reawakens the fiery churn of anger within her, takes her attention away from Tyelkormo.  
  
"I came to visit you," she said sharply. "I rode through dangerous lands, and waited for a long time - very long - for you two to return. Will you turn me away? By all means, if you refuse me lodging I will ride back through the monsters and shadows I passed on the way here -"  
  
Curufinwë grits his teeth, and it is Tyelkormo who speaks.  
  
"Irissë." His voice is warm - still drawn with pain, but far kinder than Curufinwë's. "We welcome you, of course."  
  
Irissë makes herself stop speaking, and nod stiffly to acknowledge him. She could go on, she knows; she could keep on talking, keep on spilling out words until they were deep enough to drown them - spit anger harsh enough to burn even Curufinwë's cold exterior. But, she reminds herself sharply, she did not come here for that. When she had set out, it had been with a will to make peace.  
  
It was not her fault that on the long, painful journey, the yet more painful hours of waiting, her anger had brewed in her again full force. Still, she should stay calm.  
  
"I... thank you, Lord Celegorm."  
  
She does not look at him, but she knows that he almost flinches at that.  
  
She does not forgive him, even if she stays quiet; not even enough, yet, to use his other name.  
  
~  
  
Their initial behavior sets the tone for many days afterward. Curufinwë treats her with the barest, stiff courtesy, and seems to be only suffering her for Tyelkormo's sake - no trace of the friendship they once shared. He seemed to have buried it thoroughly, along with his guilt about the ship-burning, for he never spoke of it.  
  
Tyelkormo, on the other hand, brought it up the first time they were alone.  
  
"I am sorry, Irissë." One of his hands is buried in Huan's thick fur, as if for stability; he doesn't look straight at her. "Please believe me - at any other time, I would have refused. I would have insisted... but I thought, perhaps you would be safe. I - nobody dreamed that the Crossing would be attempted..."  
  
"You thought we would simply remain?" They say by one of the windows, looking out at the plains; the weather was cold and grey, not helping her black mood in the slightest. "You thought that my father would turn back and beg pardon of the Valar - that all of us would suffer their rule again?"  
  
Tyelkormo bit his lip, looking down at his hands. Huan whined and nudged his knee, but he barely seemed to notice. For a long moment, his dark hair masked his face entirely from her view, and she wondered what expression flickered over it - he never was good at hiding his emotions.  
  
Then - then he looked up again, and it was with one of his Valar-damned pleading expressions again, the kind that used to get him out of anything back in Valinor.  
  
"I am sorry," he said again, his voice pained. "Everything was so... everything seems to have happened terribly fast, looking back to it. I suppose I didn't have time to think it through. I should have known -"  
  
"You should have," Irissë said, her hands folded tightly in her lap. "We always talked about traveling to other lands when we were young, didn't we?" Still, she had to admit her heart was softened slightly by his apology, and by the tiny smile he gave after her words.  
  
"We did," Tyelkormo said, his voice shaking slightly. He cleared his throat and smiled a little wider. "You must have been truly determined to have gotten away from Turukáno's secret fort. How long did you have to argue with him?"  
  
This was starting to feel disturbingly like one of their normal conversations. "A while. He tried to pack me off to see Findekáno, first." She frowned at the floor. "I was almost at the point of leaving here when you finally returned. I had to wait so long..."  
  
Huan tilted his head, and with a clicking of nails on the wood floor he moved his huge bulk slightly over, until he could rest his head against her knee. Irissë glanced suspiciously at Tyelkormo, but he looked as surprised as she was.  
  
Huan looked up at her with huge, liquid-brown eyes and she had to laugh a little. "I guess it is true," she said, "that dogs and those that spend time with them grow to look like each other." Stroking his head, she glanced up at Tyelkormo, and a small grin curved her lips at his puzzled expression. "You and he have exactly the same pleading expression."  
  
His confused expression brightened into a wide smile, and Irissë felt her treacherous heart, all too eager to forget the darkness of the past, flutter against her ribs.


End file.
